


Heart of Fire

by Lazarus76



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Comfort, Eating Disorder, F/M, Love, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazarus76/pseuds/Lazarus76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It helps when he's on your side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of Fire

You didn't hear him come in. You were asleep when he crept in, only stirring when the brush of his pyjamas slipped against your skin.

A hand then wandered onto your back. "Sleep," he murmured. "Just sleep." You didn't respond.

Exhaustion had taken over. For the last two days you'd been in bed, only waking to visit the bathroom and note the trays he brought. He'd taken a couple of days off, wanting to ensure your recovery got off to a positive start.

He brought soup, toast. Light food. At first, you couldn't face it, but the look of gentle persuasion on his face was beginning to convince you. You did try and eat.

But it always helped if he was there. Encouraging. He doesn't like you being this thin. He saw you half naked the other day, and winced. He's scared to hug you in bed in case you bruise. 

Bruise. 

+++++++++++++++++++++

Two days later, you're in the kitchen, looking into a glass of water. Its 7pm, and suddenly, he bursts in. "(y/n)?"

"In here."

He walks in, and looks at the glass. "Only water?" his face creases. "Fruit juice. That's what you need."

You swallow. "Don't be bossy."

"Ahem. I think, in this situation, I can be expected to be bossy." He smiled but there was concern in his eyes. "I need to trust you. I need to trust that you'll be eating when I'm not here."

"I don't need a babysitter, Hux."

He flinches slightly, then sits down. "OK. Yes, point taken. I know I'm being - controlling. But, (y/n), you have to remember that I came to your school, to find you in a chair, unconscious. Principal Organa was in a terrible state. She told me that no one had any idea you were ill. You kept it from me, from them."

You are silent. He reaches across the table, and takes your hand. "I want to be with you," he says, simply. "Enjoy our lives together. And we need to beat this."

You nod. "I know." Suddenly, tears are falling down your face. "Its so hard, Hux. So hard." He gets up. Suddenly, your face is pressed against his beautifully tailored shirt, and there is nothing else to say. He simply strokes your back as you sob.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

_Don't forget lunch! Hx_

The text makes you smile. You're now back at work, and Hux is making sure you take lunch every day. He leaves it on the counter - a sandwich (he refuses to acknowledge any idea that carbs are bad); a yoghurt, and an apple. And he also insists you take fruit juice and water. He won't allow diet soda, and he's not keen on smoothies. "A aubstitute," he scoffs. "You need to eat proper food."

You take it every day. The first day, you bite into the sandwich, and then another. But you can't quite face the yoghurt. You eat the apple. 

The second day, its another bite of the sandwich. 

But you still can't face the yoghurt.

On the third day, Hux confronts you. "Why not the yoghurt?" he asks, holding up the innocent plastic pot. 

You swallow. "Its dairy."

"It is." He folds his arms, and his gaze locks. "And-"

"Its fat."

"And?"

You decide to voice your fear. "Its pure fat, Hux."

He looks at you. "Which you need." He nods. 

You look at him. "I have to eat it?"

He looks as if he's going to fly into a rage, but the look on your face stops him. "Does it scare you?" he asks, gently, taking your chin in his hand.

You nod. "Yes." By now, the tears are starting to build. You have to turn away, to go and sit quietly. 

The next day, you open your lunch, and there is a pot of yoghurt. On it is a post it. You peel it off, and read it.

_Imagine this smeared over my chest, OK? Enjoy! Hx_

You blink. And peel off the foil top. The yoghurt smells sweet - strawberry, he's thoughtful enough to give you your favourite. You dip the spoon in. One spoonful. 

But its a start. 

And all afternoon, you can't help but suppress a grin at the thought of Hux. 

And the yoghurt. 

+++++++++++++++++++

The scales in the bathroom are gone. 

You're puzzled, and decide to look for them. After a fruitless ten minutes, you go into the lounge. He's stretched out, tapping an email on his iPad. "Hux?"

"Yes?"

"Where are the bathroom scales?" Your tone is polite.

"In the bin."

You blink. His voice is casual. You swallow. "You-"

"Threw them out." He shrugs. "I don't want you weighing yourself."

"You-"

"You heard."

Frustration is starting to build. "Hux! I can't believe you did that!"

"Well, I did." His voice is controlled. "Its a number. Just a number. That's all."

You're furious with him, and leave. This is supposed to be your recovery - how can you recover if he won't let you see how much you weigh? You decide to go and sit in the bedroom, simply to get some time to gather your thoughts. 

That evening, he goes to bed before you. You watch him go, then shrug, and carry on watching TV. He did cook - chicken with noodles - and nodded approvingly as you ate at least half. But he didn't try and argue with you when you said you were full.

Half an hour later, you decide to go to bed. He's waiting, and even though you're still agitated, you want to be near him. You go into the bathroom.

You look down, and blink. The scales are on the floor, and he's written on them:

_This is a number. It does not tell you how funny, clever, and interesting you are._

_It does not tell you how beautiful I think you are._

_Hx_

You blink. Forgiven? 

Almost.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Its taking forever to find a decent outfit. Hux is quite keen to go out that night - and you need to go out as well, your hospital assigned therapist is encouraging - but everything looks wrong. Its been ten days since you collapsed, and Hux has proposed they meet Kylo and Rey at the movies. 

You find a pair of jeans and pull them on. They sag at the waist, and hang down, off your hips. You blink. Hux comes in.

"Oh, I miss how those once fitted," he sighs, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms round your waist. "You turned up to the office in those once. The sight of your arse made it hard for me to concentrate on the meeting I was in."

You look at him. "Really?"

"Yes." He smiled. "I may appear to be a humourless android, as Kylo would say, but trust me, you in those jeans and I'm completely red blooded." He kisses the top of your head. "Let's hope they fit again at some point."

You blush. "Hux?"

"Hmmm?"

You finally voice what you've been thinking. "Do we have to go out tonight?"

He looks at you. "Well, now you mention it..." he checks his watch. "I do seem to have developed a migraine."

You smile. As he loops his arms round you, you feel yourself growing in confidence.

Half an hour later, you're practically in his lap, watching TV with him. He tickles your neck. "Fancy a snack?"

"Um-"

"Go on." He begins to get up. "Peanut butter on an apple?"

You smile. 

You have two slices with peanut butter. And his breathing, when you rest your head against his chest, is deep.

And contented. 

+++++++++++++++++++

Cooking is not something you ever really see Hux do. For you to come home and find him in the kitchen, you're pleasantly surprised. Its been twelve days. 

He turns to greet you. "Pasta tonight!"

You blink. "Great."

When he serves, he's careful not to load your plate. You look at it, but remember that this has been prepared for you, by him. You dig your fork in. He's watching. 

"Take your time," he says, gently. 

You manage to clear half your plate. He is smiling. "Well done. Dessert?"

You raise an eyebrow. "You are fattening me up." Your tone is half serious, but you do feel anxious. He reaches out, and touches your hand. 

"Well," he licks his bottom lip. "I thought we could eat it in bed."

You look at him. "I don't see why not."

He's so happy he offers to do the washing up. You dry. 

"By the way,"he says, casually, "I'm not fattening you up - I just want to cook."

You look at him. "Good to know," you say. "You can carry on. For the rest of the year."

At this he flicks you with a tea towel.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

You find Hux in the bedroom one day, with scissors. 

"What are you doing?"

He turns. "Cutting the labels out of your clothes."

"What?!"

"Because they are meaningless." He shrugs. "And it doesn't matter to me if you're a size 6 or 16 or a 26."

You blink. "What about a zero?"

"Oh God," he groans. "That's not a size." His eyes are focused.

"Its nothing."

++++++++++++++++++++

Its been three weeks since you collapsed. 

You're in bed, and Hux is standing in front of the mirror. You blink. He's so attractive. Tall, lean, and toned. You immediately feel self conscious about the little weight you have put on in the last three weeks. You do feel as though you have more flesh, although he's still discouraging you from getting on the scales. 

He's sliding into bed, and puts his arms out. "Come here." You reciprocate, letting him pull you close. He nuzzles your head. "Mmmm."

You blink. "Hux..."

"Hmmm?"

"I think I've put some weight on."

"Fantastic," he murmurs, pulling you close. "That is fantastic."

You bite your lip. "You're - pleased?"

"(y/n)." He looks at you, seriously. "When I met you, you were curvy. I loved it. I didn't say it. I loved running my hands over you, and the feel of you lying next to me. Or on top of me." He smirks wickedly, and you blush. "I couldn't get enough."

You realise its true. 

"You feel insecure about yourself physically," he murmurs, "but trust me, you really are utterly beautiful. And I just want you to be healthy, and to feel confident. We are getting there. You are."

You sink into his arms. "Do you...?" You're feeling desire for him, the first desire you've felt for weeks. At this, he's on his back and pulling you on top.

"Thought you'd never ask."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Its a couple of hours later, and you're curled up next to him. He's asleep, but you realise you're feeling hunger. You begin to get out of bed. At the movement, he turns. "(y/n?)"

"Yeah?"

"Where are you-?"

"Getting a snack. You want one?"

"Peanut butter."

You raise an eyebrow. "On a cracker?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Smear it on my chest."

At this, you're practically running to the kitchen. Now he's talking. 

 

 


End file.
